seveninchmotto | Room 301, Saturday Evening

The boy with the pajamas didn't keep her waiting for too long. He wasn't wearing his pajamas just yet considering he'd had to come a few floors down but he did have a small bag with him. So, maybe the pajamas were contained within!

Flick knocked, letting her know she was there. He didn't make a move to just walk in though because she had knives and he didn't want to surprise her (if that was even possible). Still. She had knives.

He was right about that. Her closet was pretty much lined with knives. But, there weren't any actually on her right now!

She came to the door to open it for him. "Hello," she said, as she moved out of the way to let him in. "Welcome."

"Evening," he said, smiling and stepping in past her. It was the first time he'd been in her room since she'd gotten her bigger bed and he couldn't help but snicker at the sight.

Didn't say anything just yet but he did turn back around to face her while he dropped his bag at his feet.

The bed was quite the magnificent sight. So many fluffy pillows. So many.

Isabelle closed the door (and locked it) before turning to face him too. And smiled at him.

It really was quite the spectacular sight. He liked his bed just fine but he had to admit hers dwarfed in his aesthetics and comfort, most likely.

Tonight, Flick decided to take a little initiative. He crossed the distance between them and put his hands on her cheeks before he leaned up and kissed her forehead lightly.

It wasn't mushy. It was affection. Different things.

Isabelle could buy that distinction.

She sighed when he kissed her forehead, and closed her eyes. It was an automatic reaction, and a sign of enjoyment. She always liked it when he did that, more than she'd probably care to admit.

And her hands went to his waist, her fingers curling lightly into his shirt.

Flick didn't pull away after doing that once. Of course he didn't. He moved his fingertips lightly against her face, moving against her temples very gently and the back through her hair.

He breathed against her forehead for a second or two before he pressed another kiss there. And then one more.

"Did your picnic lurking leave you with some bottled up affection?" Isabelle murmured.

He hadn't even been lurking. Didn't matter, she was joking.

"Apparently so," he said, playing along. He smiled against her forehead before he kissed that spot once more and pulled back so he could see her. His fingers were still on her cheeks brushing back against her ears and through her hair every so often. "Lucky you."

"I don't need luck," she told him quietly, her eyes fluttering open again. "I just need to be fabulous." Her fingers tugged on his shirt for no real reason. "But yes. Lucky me."

Snickering, Flick shook his head and stroked his thumbs against her cheeks.

"Lucky you," he said one more time, still smiling easily at her. "Thanks for the invite, by the way. Wouldn't wanna continue my stranger like ways or anything like that."

She shrugged a shoulder. "Felt like the thing to do." For... reasons. Which she herself had not been able to define. "Thanks for behaving."

"Felt like a thing to do, hmm?" For that, he was going to kiss her cheek. He was curious about why this felt like a thing to do, of course, but he didn't press. "And you're welcome. I even brought some pajamas."

Granted nothing like she was wearing but they still worked for him.

Isabelle was wearing a dressing gown (closed, though) over a frilly pink and black babydoll, because especially now that she was living alone? Hell yes she was sleeping in what she considered the best stuff ever.

And no, his pajamas would have nothing on that.

"Good," she sighed with a little chuckle. "Means you can take requests."

Serious requests about bringing pajamas.

"Well, I had to behave and all," he pointed out, shrugging a shoulder. His fingers were still moving lightly across her cheeks, occasionally tracing the shell of her ears and then back down the line of her jaw. "Would have been bad form to ignore a request like that."

Isabelle kept tilting her head – slowly and subtly, but still – towards whichever hand seemed to be doing more touching. Maybe she could be a little puppy-like, too.

"Mmm."

Maybe she could be. It was something Flick wasn't used to seeing but he was enjoying it nonetheless.

He made sure to give each side of her face equal time, kept his touch light and steady, always making sure he was touching her on at least one side of her face or with some fingers in her hair.

He was looking at her openly. There was no smile but his gaze was steady and calm while his touch was soft and gentle.

Isabelle's eyes were closed, every once in a while. She was enjoying herself and his light touches and didn't feel like hiding that at this moment.

Her fingers were still grasping his shirt, giving it idle tugs here and there.

Flick wanted to ask her what she was thinking about but he didn't. If she wanted to offer it up, he figured she would but her reactions to what he was doing was more than enough for him right now.

His fingers moved down her neck this time, tracing light paths with his fingertips down to the area where shoulder met neck. Then, his fingers crossed over the front of her neck, up the column of her throat and back across her jaw.

His thumbs moved across her cheeks, pressing down enough to just feel her cheekbones before he moved them back through her hair and went to repeat the process.

Isabelle sighed again. There was just something good about being touched like that. She liked a lot of different kinds of touches, but there was still something new about this. A good kind of new.

After a moment, her eyes opened again, and her gaze fixed on his face. "That feels nice."

That was what she was thinking about.

"Good. It's supposed to," he said, fingers still moving up and across her face, through her hair and down her neck, slowly but surely. "I wanna make you feel nice."

And while he might have meant that dirtily in some situations, he honestly didn't mean it like that right now. Well, okay, his overwhelming thought wasn't of making her feel nice in a dirty fashion. Hopefully his tone conveyed that.

Isabelle got what he meant. She knew he got a chance more often to say that kind of thing in dirty situations, and she also knew that wasn't really what he meant right now.

Still, she quirked a slow smirk at him and told him quietly, "I know you do."

"Good." Her smirk drew a brief matching one from him before it faded back into the open expression he'd been wearing while he touched her.

The touching was still occurring, light and easy. It felt nice to her and he enjoyed doing it so he kept going for the moment. Fingers against skin, back and forth, up and down, over and across.

Isabelle was watching his face this time, with a pretty open expression of her own. Breathing quietly and letting the silence stretch on while she memorized the way his face looked right now.

One of her hands let go of his shirt only to slide just a little bit underneath it at his side, to brush lightly against skin.

When he felt her fingers at his side, underneath his shirt, one corner of his mouth ticked up into a small half smile. That was the only real movement of anything besides his hands and fingers right now.

This time around, he moved his fingertips across her lips slowly before they moved to her cheeks and down her neck and through her hair. It was a different touch than ones he used to turn her on and amp her up, most definitely. Something softer, more affectionate and quiet about the touching he was continuing with.

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